Rescuing Jamie
by Leila Data
Summary: Gillette has long been in love with James Norrington and is dismayed by James' ruin. Gillette goes to Tortuga to rescue James from his grim new life, only to discover that someone else has already taking "Jamie" under his wing. In a desperate attempt not to lose James, Gillette joins the crew of the Black Pearl - unwittingly selling his soul to Davy Jones.
1. Bloody Captain Jack Sparrow

André Gillette took a large swig of rum._ Bloody pirates_, he thought sourly. _Bloody Captain Jack Sparrow._ Though André rarely drank, the alcohol was a necessity to him at the moment.

With a sigh, André recollected his relationship with Commodore James Norrington. He had always looked up to him, and long been a close friend. What James never knew was that André felt much more than friendship for him—he was completely in love with him.

But James was in love with the Governor's daughter, Elizabeth Swann. André did not wish to get in the way of James' happiness, and thus never told him his true feelings. As horrible as he felt about it, he had been ecstatic when Miss Swann had chosen to leave James for William Turner. She was a complete idiot, obviously. James was as close to perfect as a mortal could come, but now André had a chance with him.

Although André had the opportunity to tell James his true feelings for him, he found that he could not. André feared that James may not return any romantic feelings, and that he may lose his friendship with James if he told him how he felt. James may have realized, but the two never openly discussed a relationship of that sort. However, their relationship did grow much closer, and James trusted André more than everyone.

When André fell ill, James personally helped attend to him, and he also hired the best doctor to look after him. But he could not stay in Port Royal forever, and he left to find and arrest Captain Jack Sparrow. James swore he would return triumphantly, and André promised to overcome his illness by the time James arrived.

But James did not come back. At first, it just seemed that his search was taking much longer than expected. But then came the rumor of his vessel's destruction in a hurricane.

André believed that was the worst time of his life. The man he loved was dead—gone forever.

Or so it seemed.

Then André heard a rumor about the Commodore's miraculous survival. Even if it was just a rumor, André was determined to discover its legitimacy. He was going to find James Norrington and bring him home to Port Royal, no matter what the cost.

Which was how André found himself in Tortuga. He had received a tip from a sailor on a Royal Navy vessel who had heard it from a pirate prisoner who heard from a whore that there was a former Royal Navy officer hiding out in Tortuga. True, it was not much to go on, but André was not taking any chances.

He had managed to acquire leave, but he had a limited time to find James and get back to Port Royal. The sooner he found the man he loved, the better.

Tortuga was a place ridden with harlots and cutthroats. It hardly seemed a place to find a gentleman like James. But now that James was ruined, this did seem a likely place for him to turn up. Sitting in a filthy bar and drinking far too much rum, André thought about the reason for James' suffering—Captain Jack Sparrow. He would kill that man.

"Stop following me, Mr. Gibbs. I've nowhere to run, nor is it likely I will."

André could hardly believe his ears. He knew that voice. He heard it in his dreams every night; the smooth voice was music to his ears. He gazed around the bar, searching for James' bright green eyes.

"The captain wants to be safe," a man, most likely Mr. Gibbs, replied.

"Then he should be the one following me."

And then André saw him. He was still wearing most of his uniform, but it had become torn and dirty, hanging from him in a manner most dissimilar from how André remembered. A tattoo of an anchor was revealed by the open shirt. André had never seen James' chest before, and was rather surprised to see the tattoo. The marking seemed quite unlike James to have.

James was not wearing a wig, and his dark hair was sloppily pulled back and tied with a black ribbon. He had a beard, something that made him momentarily unrecognizable to André. But his eyes—those beautiful, vivid eyes—were just the same as André remembered.

André got to his feet and prepared to approach him, but stopped as a pirate drunkenly approached James and Mr. Gibbs. He was also dirty, as a pirate should be, with dark dreadlocks and a beaded beard. André's hand clenched into a tight fist as he recognized the man as Captain Sparrow.

"Who says I wasn't following you, Commodore?" he said with an impish grin.

"I thought you trusted me more than this, Jack," James said, smirking slightly in a manner André had never seen him do before.

"Oh, now you should know better than that, Jamie."

_Jamie?_ André had never heard that name applied to James before. At first he considered how cute it sounded, but then he quickly became angry at this sign of familiarity.

André abruptly forgot the nickname as Jack placed a hand on the back of James' neck and pulled the man closer to him, pressing his lips to his.

André's mouth fell open.

_Why isn't James pushing that filthy pirate away?_ André's eyes narrowed as the kiss deepened, and he put his hand on the pistol in his belt.

James smirked as he pulled his head back. "Yet you still don't trust me."

"Not for a second." Jack took a deep swig of rum. "Come on—we need to start recruiting."

"You can't honestly expect a hundred men…" James' lovely voice trailed off as the three walked to the other side of the bar.

André could not believe what he had seen. James and Jack? It could not be, should not be, just as James should not be a pirate. The world had gone mad.

_Bloody Jack Sparrow_, André thought, gulping down more rum. _I am going to kill that man_.

André watched across the bar as Mr. Gibbs set up a table and a short line began to form in front of it. James and Jack stood nearby, with Jack fiddling around with his compass, shaking it and opening and closing it, as though it was not working. After gulping down the last of his mug of rum, André wiped his mouth and prepared to approach them.

At the same moment, James wandered away from Jack and toward the bar. Jack eyed James suspiciously as he did so, apparently truly not trusting the same man he had just shown affection for. A low growl escaped André's throat as he decided to take this opportunity.

He casually meandered up beside James as the former Commodore ordered another drink. James glanced at André and looked away before his head suddenly snapped back to André again. His eyes went to André's auburn hair that was usually hidden by his wig.

"_André_?" he hissed, wisely keeping his voice low.

André threw him an uncaring glance, pretending not to know him. "Yes, _sir_." The last word came out more spitefully than he had intended as the image of James, _his_ James, kissing _that_ pirate surfaced in his mind.

"What the hell are you doing here?" James said out of the corner of his mouth as he glanced at Jack, who appeared to be watching them.

"I could ask the same of you," André said coldly.

"I couldn't go back to Port Royal. There's a warrant out for my arrest, you know," James said, taking a drink of rum. "Helping Jack Sparrow escape and all."

"I was there, James. You didn't aid in his escape—Turner and Swann did."

James shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his former fiancé. "But I let him get a head start—and my crew paid the price."

"I think your 'captain' wants you back," André said callously, noting that Jack was now watching James and André intently.

"André, you need to go back to Port Royal," James said under his breath. "You've got a life there. I have nothing."

"You'd have me," André breathed.

James turned to him sharply, not hiding his gaze as he studied him. His jade eyes widened slightly as he bit his lip, his expression sad. "Why did you come to Tortuga, André?"

André swallowed hard. "Because I heard you might be here."

James stared at him, his intense green eyes boring into André. "I can't go back, André. That life is over."

"James…" André said softly.

"I'm sorry." Without another word, James walked back to Jack.


	2. Captain's Pet

André watched Jack and James speak in low voices. He then looked at Mr. Gibbs, who appeared rather annoyed. A man who had just been in line wandered by him and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm part of _Black Pearl_'s crew!" he announced drunkenly.

"Good for you," André said with a fake smile, thinking of how he desired to strangle the _Pearl_'s captain.

"You ever wanted to sail? You should sign up!" The man left and continued boasting about his new position in Captain Sparrow's crew to others in the bar.

André watched James for a while, gazing rather absentmindedly at this man James had become. André had to save him somehow; there must be some way to help him escape from this hell, even though James himself had given up hope. Turning his gaze to Mr. Gibbs, a thought suddenly occurred to him. If the drunken pirate managed to sign up so easily for the _Pearl_'s crew, why couldn't André?

True, joining Sparrow's crew would be dangerous and James would likely hate him for a time for taking such dramatic action. But perhaps André could find a way to help James and keep him from sinking lower than he already had. André smiled into his mug of rum as he finished it off. The line was gone now, and Mr. Gibbs was examining his empty bottle of rum, apparently attempting to ignore the two men next to him.

André glowered at Jack as the pirate's hand slid up James' thigh. But what really hurt André was that James, poor, ruined James, did not even seem to mind—until he glanced up through those damn long eyelashes of his and saw André watching. He flushed and turned away, moving his leg slightly away from Jack's hand, although Jack obliviously kept it there.

Putting down his mug of rum, André managed to catch James' eyes again with a sort of look he had never before considered giving him—a challenging one. He ambled over to the table and leaned down to talk to Mr. Gibbs, watching James carefully out of the corner of his eye, daring him to say something to keep André from signing up to join the _Black Pearl._

"And what makes you think yourself worthy to crew the _Black Pearl_?" Mr. Gibbs asked him.

"I love the sea," André answered simply, relatively certain that it did not really matter what he said.

Mr. Gibbs seemed to consider him for a moment before nodding. "You're hired. Make your mark."

Glancing again at James, who was staring at him incredulously, André picked up the provided quill (with a slight flourish) and signed _André_ at the bottom of the short list.

O O O

"That kid with the red hair—he's a good one. A hard worker. It's a pity I've sold his soul to the devil," Jack said with a sort of grimace.

James nodded silently, his mind filled with a good number of curses directed at André. What the hell did that man think he was doing, signing up for the _Black Pearl_ and essentially selling his soul? Granted, he did not know the part about Davy Jones, but in this futile attempt to rescue James from his dishonor, he was dooming himself. Why didn't André realize that all hope was already lost for James?

"Jamie?"

James blinked and forced himself to focus on Jack. "Yes, captain?"

"Captain? Well, mister former Commodore…" James glared at Jack, who quickly amended his statement. "Jamie, is something bothering you, love?" he asked, placing his hand on James' knee. James bit his lip, the emotions raging inside him confusing and distracting him.

Despite his aversion to Jack Sparrow (he truly did not like the man—in fact, he was quite sure he hated him), James somehow loved him. He had to. Jack had discovered him, drunk and penniless in Tortuga, and had accepted him into his crew. Jack had also shown James something of life that James had never known before—freedom.

James hated what he had become, a pirate and his captain's pet. But he loved the freedom his new life brought. No restricting uniforms, fewer rules and regulations, no one but his captain telling him what to do…at times it felt like he was completely alone with his true love: the sea.

Jack lifted James' chin so James was gazing into those damn gorgeous dark eyes. "Talk to me, Jamie, love."

James shook his head slightly. "It's nothing, Jack."

Jack studied him for a few moments, trying to read him, before he leaned forward and met James in a slow, passionate kiss. James was struck with the thought of how this kiss was very different than usual; less possessive, more loving. Jack generally kissed by the same laws that he lived by: take what you can, give nothing back.

James ran his tongue over his lower lip as Jack pulled away, tasting the last remnants of rum from Jack's mouth. He always tasted of rum. "What was that for, Jack?"

"You seem to need it." Jack sat down beside James and wrapped his arms about him. "Something's wrong; I can feel it." James sighed heavily, but said nothing. "You don't care to tell me?" he said, nibbling at James' earlobe and sending a shiver through James' body. Jack cupped James' cheek, and James leaned into the touch, wishing that no one else was aboard the _Black Pearl_—but especially André.

James scowled slightly as he thought of the Lieutenant again. The man was being so foolish.

And yet…

James cared for André, much more than he cared for most, and though André's actions were rash, his intentions were good, and his motivations proved him sweet and loyal. And his behavior also pointed James toward feelings André may have toward him…feelings that James had never considered André having. Realizing how André might feel for him made James consider the reverse.

But André abruptly slipped from James' thoughts as Jack kissed him again, more possessively this time—more Jack-like. Jack's hand became entangled in James' dark, wavy hair as he pressed closer, his tongue requesting entrance into James' mouth, which James willingly provided as all his worries, for the moment, vanished.

Hands scrambled to remove their restricting clothing, and James gasped as Jack tweaked his nipple. "You're beautiful, Jamie," Jack murmured into his ear, reaching down and tugging at James' breeches as he moved to kiss the hollow of his throat.

"Thank you, Jack." _For everything._

André sat on the steps near the captain's cabin, his fists clenched and his jaw set as he heard a moan from inside.

"You'll soon learn to ignore it," Mr. Gibbs said suddenly from behind him.

André looked up at the silhouette of Jack's first mate. "What is he? The captain's pet?"

"Seems that way, don't it?" Mr. Gibbs replied. "But not really. I don't understand it either—but their relationship works. Odd, seeing as they were once mortal enemies," Gibbs said with a slight chuckle. André flinched as he heard a muffled groan, and Mr. Gibbs studied him curiously before asking, "Why does it bother you so? It doesn't affect ye." He raised an eyebrow. "Does it?" André said nothing. "You don't happen to have a thing for the captain, do you?"

"Of course not!" André exclaimed, his eyes flashing. "I hate him. Now kindly leave me be."

Mr. Gibbs turned to leave, but glanced back and said, "Norrington hates him, too. But that don't mean he don't love him."

_He doesn't love him, _André thought._ I know he doesn't. He can't._

But what if he did? What if James, for some unfathomable reason, actually loved Jack? No, surely he could not. James was a gentleman; Jack was a pirate. James was a member of the crew who had to take orders; Jack was the captain who took advantage of James and his position.

And again André swore, _I am going to kill that man._


	3. Damn

James yawned as he opened his eyes. He sighed and turned to look at the man lying beside him. _Damn_. He was still in Jack's cabin, where he was not supposed to be after dawn, and it appeared that the sun was already rising. Although the crew knew full well of the nature of their relationship, James was expected to leave before morning. It was a Jack thing, he supposed, or perhaps a way of reminding James of his position in life. He was, after all, only a crewmember aboard a pirate ship.

He slid out of the bed and smiled softly at the blissful look on Jack's sleeping face before quickly pulling on his clothing. He was vaguely confused about his boots, which seemed to have somehow never been removed, but he did not dwell on any of the night's events as he hurried to make it to his hammock before he was to rise for his shift.

Though James would sometimes run into a crewmate on his way to where he was _supposed_ to sleep, he had never had anything happen like what did as he ventured into the relative darkness below decks this particular morning.

Before James even knew that someone was nearby, he had been forced roughly against a wall. "What the hell is wrong with you?" a familiar voice hissed.

_André…_

"What are you talking about?" James asked, the same question André had just asked him running through his mind.

"The captain's whore? Is that all you believe you're good for now?" André said, his breath brushing against James' face. He smelled strongly of rum.

"You've been drinking," James accused, avoiding the question.

"Damn right I have been," André replied coldly. "I can't believe that you would allow yourself to become so…to do…"

James closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his senses confused by the scents of rum and the sea that usually associated with Jack. "André, this is all I am. I've no title, no wealth, no honor…"

"Obviously you have no honor," André snapped. "Being captain's pet and all. Although, perhaps you enjoy it. Maybe you like playing whore, _Jamie._"

James was not sure if it was the accusation (which was partially true) or the use of Jack's nickname for him, but something prompted him to switch positions with André, and now James was the one pinning the other man to the wall. "Perhaps I do," he hissed into André's ear. "Perhaps I do happen to like him."

"God forbid," André breathed.

"Do not tamper with what you do not understand, André," James said under his breath, attempting to remain calm. "I suggest you go ashore as soon as possible and get back to Port Royal. Don't throw away everything for me. As you clearly believe, I'm not worth it."

And again James found his back painfully impacting the wall. "You are the most foolish bastard I have ever met," André said harshly.

James opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as André suddenly and forcefully kissed him. James' eyes widened in surprise and he tried to pull away, only to find the wall behind him impeding him. André seemed to pour out his soul in the kiss as he slowly explored James' mouth, and James found himself getting lost in it as well. André tasted of rum, a familiar and comforting taste, yet he was different and strangely refreshing, with a tenderness behind his motions that was somewhat lacking with Jack.

Just as James was giving in, André abruptly pulled back, stumbling slightly as he moved away from James and held a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. "_Merde_," André swore. "Bloody rum…I…I didn't mean to, James." André turned away, but paused before leaving. "You have no idea how highly I value you, sir. You're worth much more than I can ever offer," he said quietly before rushing away, leaving a rather befuddled James behind.

James slid down the wall and sat on the ground, blinking as he attempted to clear his mind. But it was impossible; the emotions raging in his mind were too overwhelming.

Damn André. If he had not shown up in Tortuga, if he had not joined the crew of the _Black Pearl_, he would be safe in Port Royal and James would not have to worry about him now.

And damn Jack. If it had not been for him, James would be safe in Port Royal, his honor intact. And same with André—he would also be in Port Royal, and James would not have to worry about him.

Perhaps it all would have been better if James had not accepted Jack's aid. Granted, there was little else he could have done, but he still felt a certain amount of responsibility for the situation. And the situation seemed suddenly worse as James realized that, because of concern for _him_, André had put himself on a path of destruction. He would be handed over to Davy Jones and have to live and serve aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ for a hundred years, all because of his concern for James.

_And I'm not worth it._

James was certain that he was not worth the level of devotion André was showing him. He was not worth the high price André would have to pay for his actions. Why couldn't André see that?

"Norrington?" James looked up at Mr. Gibbs, who was gazing at him worriedly. "Are you all right?"

James was very embarrassed to see that Gibbs and Marty appeared to have been watching him for a while, unnoticed by the distressed former Commodore. "I'm…" To say that he was "all right" would be a lie. "It's nothing important."

Mr. Gibbs nodded, however unbelievingly, and left James to be. But Marty remained, his head cocked to the side as he studied James. "Did something happen with you and the captain?" he asked after a few moments.

James flushed as he remembered what had happened the night before, but he shook his head. "I'm all right, Marty," James lied.

Marty also appeared to be skeptical, but he nodded and left James alone. And once again, confused thoughts cluttered James' brain. Because of him, André was going to suffer for the next century. Because of him, André, loyal, sweet André, would eventually die.

But André was part of James' past life. He did not belong here, on the _Pearl_, at all. James had finally managed to move on, to forget the life he had before. But then André appeared in that bar in Tortuga, and everything flooded back; it felt like pouring saltwater onto an open wound.

The memory of Elizabeth, his betrothed (in what seemed like another lifetime), was both sweet and sour, leaving a bad taste in his mind. And that Turner—if James had stayed in Port Royal, he would have found a way to get him hung.

No…he would never do anything like that. But the man James was now would. Honor was forgotten, love was long gone. All there was left of James was a free man who would do whatever he could to get what he wanted. The only matters of importance to James were Jack and the sea.

And now André.

But _damn him!_ Along with bitter memories of Elizabeth and her latest fiancé came memories of James' close friendship with André. Yes, it was wonderful at the time to have such a close friend and confidant working so close to him, but that life was over. James had moved on—André needed to as well.

However, now that André had reminded James of his previous life, of who he used to be, James feared that he could never go back to his rather carefree self and relationship with Jack. Why the hell did André have to show up just as James had finally let go?

"_Because I heard you might be here."_

"Just because you heard I was there, André?" James muttered. "I have nothing to go back to. The life I had is gone."

"I'm not."

James looked up quickly, his green eyes wide with surprise. André coughed and rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted his weight nervously. "I'll always be here for you, sir."

"I'm not the man you knew, André. I should think that would be obvious by now," James said bitterly as he got to his feet.

"I don't believe that's true, sir." James arched a curious brow. "I can see it in your eyes, James. You're still the man I've served under for years. You're still my friend. And—." André coughed again and looked at his feet. He took a deep breath. "I need more rum," he said under his breath.

James shook his head. "I don't think you do…I believe you had enough earlier."

André flushed deeply. "I'm so sorry, sir."

Sighing sadly, James slowly approached him, taking his face in his hands and forcing André to look up at him. "Don't be," he said with a small smile. André's breath had quickened almost fearfully, though James was certain that he was not feeling fear as James moved closer to him.

"Oi, Jamie! Never known you to be late for your shift," Jack's voice called down below decks.

James' eyes widened as Jack's voice rang in his head and he leapt back as though burned. André's eyes narrowed. "I hate seeing you like this, James. You should be the one in command—not at the beck and call of some pirate," he said with disgust. "I'm going to free you, James. Whatever it takes, I will free you from his hold over you."

James closed his eyes and shook his head. "André…" At the sound of footsteps approaching, André vanished and James was left alone again, somehow more confused and concerned than ever before.

"Damn."


	4. Control

André watched James at the helm, unable to keep from smiling slightly as he gazed at the wonderful man. The fact that James was lacking a shirt that day only made André's mind wander further and daydream more. His body was so beautiful in the sunlight…in any light, really, André presumed.

It was so sad that James had allowed himself to become less than who he was; but the James that André knew was still there. He would bring James back to Port Royal and help him escape from this hell, and from Jack's hold over him.

Jack was obviously using his position to force James to do whatever he wanted. André wished that he had not accused James of enjoying it—mostly because James as good as admitted that he did.

André's eyes narrowed as Jack approached James from behind, putting a hand on the James' hip and pulling him close. James closed his eyes and leaned back in Jack's embrace as the pirate whispered something in his ear and slid his hand towards James' inner thigh.

"Disgusting," André muttered, wincing when James turned around to kiss Jack. He glared at the hand that had made its way to James' buttocks and was forcing James' body closer to Jack.

"You would think they'd keep such matters to themselves," a nearby crewmember, who had also signed up in Tortuga, said.

"Captain Jack is in charge," Mr. Gibbs said as he approached. "He doesn't mind reminding everyone of that."

"By snogging the former Commodore by day and shagging him by night?" the other crewmember asked with a snicker.

André was suddenly aware that his hand hurt. He then felt someone grabbing his arms and pulling him backwards. "Get off me!" André shouted.

His brief moment of anger subsided, and he realized that he had just punched the man who had talked about James and Jack, which was why Mr. Gibbs was currently holding him back.

"What? You want to be his pet?" the man André had struck said, holding his nose. "Jealous of the ex-Commodore, are we?"

"Now that's enough!" Gibbs said with difficulty as he continued to hold André back. "Both of you!"

"Oi! What's happening here?"

André managed to turn his head enough to see Captain Jack approaching, with James following behind like a loyal puppy._ Damn you, Jack Sparrow_, André thought angrily. James was little more than a pet—Jack had him completely under his thumb. André _would _free him. He had to.

"It's under control, captain," Mr. Gibbs said.

"Really? Then why are you holding that man, and why does _that_ man have a bloody nose?"

Gibbs let go of André, who glared at the man with the bloody nose and almost grinned, delighted to have harmed him for insulting James.

"He's jealous of your pet, sir," the man said with a sneer. "Been listening and jack—."

But the man did not have a chance to finish his vulgar comment, for Captain Jack himself struck the man. "You mangy toad—I'll bet it's you who listens at the door and takes matters into your own hands." Looking at André, Jack continued, "As for you, if he's an ass again, you're under orders to repeat what I just did, savvy?" André nodded, his eyes wide with surprise. Jack turned on his heel to face James. "I hope you know you're much more than my 'pet,' Jamie," he said, running a hand through James' dark hair and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

André swallowed hard as he watched the two, his heart sinking as James held Jack closer to his body and deepened the kiss. Biting his lip, André was unable to look away. _That liar_, he thought. _He knows James is under his control_. André hated seeing James being used, especially in such a cheap and disgusting manner.

He would free James and remind him of what a wonderful man he was, and how Jack did not even deserve to be James' whore, much less master.

O O O

James opened his eyes as Jack pulled away and found himself looking into the chocolate brown eyes of André over his captain's shoulder. He swallowed hard, unable to look away as André glared at him unblinkingly.

"Let's get you back to your post, Jamie," Jack said, nodding toward the helm, which the silent Mr. Cotton had taken over.

James was finally able to look away from André's piercing gaze as he turned away and walk back up to the helm. Jack kissed him briefly before going to his cabin and leaving James alone at the wheel. At least, he thought it was alone.

"By 'much more' he means whore, you know."

James jumped and turned in surprise. André was standing a few feet behind him, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. James closed his eyes as he faced forward again. "André, please…" James' eyes snapped open as he felt arms wrapping about his waist. "André," he hissed, inhaling sharply as the man nibbled at his ear. Fighting the stirrings of arousal he was beginning to feel, James asked, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"We're pirates, aren't we? We can take what we want," he said, breathing hotly on James' neck.

"There are rules, André," James said, swallowing hard as one of André's hands traced James' tattoo and the other fingered the waistband of his pants.

"And the captain's whore is off-limits, then?"

James shoved André back as hard as he could with his elbow, knocking the man to the deck. André glared up at him as he rubbed his chest. "James!"

"Stay away from me, André," James said quietly. "And get off this damn ship!" André continued starting up at him in horror. "I told you before—_that_ life is over." André winced as he lifted himself up, and James suddenly found himself at André's side and was helping him to his feet, guilt overcoming him. "I'm so sorry, André, I didn't mean to hurt you, really, I…I just…" He trailed off as he saw that André's brown eyes were glistening with tears. "God, André…who am I?" he breathed.

"James Norrington, sir. The man I have always respected and…and loved, sir," André told him, his cheeks darkening as he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Why do you keep saying that?" James asked, suddenly capturing André's mouth with his own._ Thank God Jack is in his cabin,_ James thought, for he seemed completely unable to control what he was doing as his tongue dueled with André's.

Remembering that the helm was unattended and that they could be seen at any moment, James pulled away. André stared at him with wide eyes, speechless as James again took the helm.

"André…there is a reason for the mass recruitment in Tortuga." André walked up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, but James refused to look at him. _I'll be thrown overboard for telling him this…_ "Jack needs one hundred souls to save his own. He plans on handing you and the others over to Davy Jones." James turned to André when he heard the man gasp. "You _must _get off this ship, André. Please."

"What about you?"

_Can't he concentrate on himself for one moment?_ "What about me, André?"

André swallowed hard. "But…one hundred souls? There aren't that many men aboard this ship, even counting the entire crew. How do you know he won't…" James' brow furrowed. "You know, that he won't hand you over, too?"

James inhaled deeply as he thought on this. "I…I don't know that he won't. But I am already lost either way—you still have a life to go back to. So _get off this ship_."

"Not without you," André hissed, walking away quickly as Mr. Gibbs walked up the steps toward the helm.

"Are you trying to get yourself damned?" James muttered under his breath.


	5. Mine

"Captain wants to see you in his cabin, Norrington," Mr. Gibbs said, taking over the helm.

_I'm not in the mood_, James thought bitterly, but he nodded and obediently headed down to the captain's cabin.

James found himself immediately pinned to the door as he entered the room, the wood rough against his chest. Jack was apparently wasting no time. But James cried out in shock as Jack nipped painfully at his neck. James tried to turn around and protest, but was instead forced even closer to the door.

Jack was never like this. He was sometimes rather rough, but this was different. This was violent. He shivered as he felt the cool metal of a blade trailing across his skin. "Jack?" he asked uncertainly.

"Captain," Jack growled, sinking his teeth into James' bare shoulder—again, not playful or loving, but painful.

"Captain, what—?"

"How much have I done for you, Jamie?"

"I'm…I'm sorry?" James was finding his mind in a haze of panic. Jack was being violent, he was holding a knife, and he did not sound happy. Was this some sort of game? But Jack did not play games, not like this. James could tell by Jack's tone—he was angry. Was he drunk? Really drunk, not just the usual?

"What have I done for you?"

"You-you gave me a job. Here."

"And?"

"You've…taken care of me?"

"And?"

James swallowed hard. "You've…you've…" He was not certain what else to say, nor of what Jack wanted to hear.

"Loved you?"

James' breath caught in his throat. Jack had never told him that before. "I…I did not know that, sir."

The pressure Jack was using to keep James against the door seemed to falter for a moment. "I thought it was obvious," he said. "But that does not matter. Either way, one thing that you should have know is that you are _mine_."

James inhaled sharply and bit his lip as he felt the knife suddenly cut into his arm. He shuddered in pain as Jack continued cutting into his skin._ What is he doing?_ Why was Jack being like this? If he loved him, what was this possessive, violent behavior for?

"Look down, Jamie."

James hesitantly turned his eyes down to his arm, which now had a blood dripping from the crude design cut into him—a sparrow.

"You are _mine_, James Norrington, and I don't share my dearest treasures."

"I-I know."

"Do you?"

Jack spun James to face him, continuing to hold him against the door, his dark eyes cold as they bore into James'. James licked his lips as he nodded. "Yes."

"You didn't seem to earlier today."

_Oh my God…_

"I—I didn't—I don't—."

Jack nodded. "Tongue-tied, I see. Didn't think you'd get caught, did you? No wonder you were so distracted when I talked about that Andrew."

"André," James corrected automatically, flinching at the glare he received from Jack. "Jack, I—."

"Captain," Jack said harshly.

"Captain," James corrected quickly. "I…I didn't mean to, I don't know what came over me…" He gasped as Jack slid his knee between James' legs.

"I think I know what might have." James closed his eyes as Jack leaned closer and began trailing his lips and tongue over his neck and chest. "Give me one reason not to kill this 'André,'" Jack said just before he began tracing his tongue over James' tattoo.

James' eyes snapped open, and he bit his lip to keep from saying anything too quickly. "He's a good worker. You said so yourself."

Jack chuckled as he rolled his tongue over James' nipple. "Is that all?"

James' blinked, trying to keep a clear head as Jack's deliberations sent shots of arousal through his body. "You need his soul," James swallowed hard. "To give to Davy Jones," he said with difficulty.

"Anything else?"

James pressed himself against the door as Jack began tugging down his breeches. "I…I don't…" He shivered as his breeches slid down over his hips and pooled around his feet on the ground. "What-what do you want me to say? I've given you two good reasons to keep him alive."

"I'm curious why you suddenly decided to give him what's mine." James could hardly think as Jack captured his mouth in a hungry kiss as his hand teasingly stroked the inside of James' thighs.

"So this is an interrogation?" James asked, trying desperately to ignore Jack's hands teasing his body. "Feeling insecure, are—oh, God!"

O O O

"André!"

André froze, wondering if he had imagined the sharp voice of the captain calling his name.

"I want a word."

Curious as to what Captain Sparrow could possibly want with him, André cautiously turned to see the captain leaning out the door to his cabin. One of the men nearby whistled quietly, winking suggestively. André rolled his eyes.

_I'm sure James is more than enough._

André had to pause halfway to Jack's cabin, swallowing hard and attempting to keep sinful thoughts from his mind (and failing). "Captain?" he asked as he approached.

"Come inside."

André followed Jack into his cabin hesitantly, beginning to become apprehensive about Jack's intentions. His anxiousness suddenly increased exponentially when he laid eyes on James. He was seated in Jack's bed, his apparently naked body only partially hidden under the sheets, his face in his hands. James glanced up as the door closed behind André, his jade eyes begging for forgiveness.

_For what? Being in Jack's bed?_

But why was André there?

"So, André," Jack began, twirling a knife casually between his fingers. "Or should I say Lieutenant?" André swallowed hard and looked back at James, who had closed his eyes. "What are you doing aboard my ship?"

"I-I needed a job."

"Really?" Jack shook his head. "Sorry, mate. I don't believe that. You had a job—a better one, most likely—in the Royal Navy."

"So did James! Norrington! Commodore." André flinched and avoided eye contact with the captain. "Life happens, men end up in Tortuga without work."

"As did Mr. Gibbs," Jack muttered. "Strange…Jamie claims that you said you signed up to get him off this ship."

James put his hand over his mouth, his eyes still closed. André shook his head slightly. _He's nothing but a pet._ André looked back at Jack. "Commodore Norrington deserves better than being a crewmember aboard a pirate vessel," André said firmly. "I wanted to help him…to help him get his life back."

"Maybe it has escaped your notice, but Jamie is perfectly happy with his life."

"What makes you think that?" André asked quickly.

Jack's knowing grin made André want to strangle him. He constantly used James so cheaply; it was horrible. "You must be a very loyal officer."

"And friend," André added quietly.

Jack stopped twirling the knife, holding it tightly in his hand as he took a few steps towards André. "André…is that French?" André tilted his head slightly in confirmation. "Is it customary for the French to kiss their friends on the lips, despite relationships they may be in?"

Instead of being shocked about Jack's knowledge of their kiss (which one?), André found himself extremely angry about Jack's comment. "Relationships?" he scoffed. "Of what sort?" James suddenly looked up from his hands, wide-eyed. "Using someone as your personal whore doesn't count as a relationship!"

Jack glared at André in silence for a moment before turning on his heel and approaching James. "Is that what you told him you were?" he asked sharply.

James shook his head quickly, his eyes wide. "No!"

"He's your pet," André snarled. "He obeys your every command, does everything to your liking."

"As a crewmember should," Jack replied.

"But not a lover!" André countered, stepping forward. James was shaking his head again, his eyes downcast, but André paid him no heed. André was relatively certain that he was about to be killed anyway. "You should be focused on what _he_ wants. You need to…to care for him, to love him, to tell him you love him, to show him how-how wonderful a man he is." André bit his lip as James looked up at him through his eyelashes.

Jack glared at André again. "Ah, so you _do_ like Jamie as more than a friend." He suddenly drew his pistol, and André took a deep breath, knowing that the gun was for him. "I can't have that, mate. Jamie is mine. He knows it, the crew knows it—it's a pity you don't seem to know it."

Jack pulled the trigger.


	6. Leverage

André was at first only aware of pain as he fell to the ground. He clenched his eyes shut and clutched his leg to his chest as he heard sheets rustling and someone approaching him. "André?" James said, his deep voice trembling slightly.

"That was a warning," Jack said, putting his pistol back in his belt. "Although I meant to aim a little higher…" he muttered under his breath.

André opened his eyes and glared at Jack, trying to ignore the severe pain shooting through his body. He opened his mouth to speak, but James tightened his grip on André's arm, his eyes asking him to remain silent. André felt a bolt of arousal go straight to his groin as his eyes flickered quickly over James' nude body. He was more gorgeous than André had ever imagined.

"Jamie," Jack said warningly. James moistened his lips nervously before turning to look at Jack, who arched an eyebrow at him. James slowly stood and backed away from André. "Get out," Jack told André.

"He needs medical care," James said suddenly.

Jack turned to him, studying him silently for a moment before he surprised them both by saying, "All right. Take care of him."

James blinked, his eyes reflecting his disbelief. "What?"

"Take care of him. Clean his wound. All that."

André eyed Jack suspiciously as James cautiously approached him again.

O O O

"So, Jamie, how's your patient?"

James avoided making eye contact with Jack as he pulled on his breeches. "He can hardly walk. The crew is beginning to wonder what happened to him."

"And he told them…?"

"Battle wound flaring up."

"Ah," Jack said as he pulled on his clothing.

"What are you doing, Jack?" James asked suddenly, turning to face him and forcing himself to meet Jack's gaze.

Jack blinked. "Putting on my breeches. I can stop," he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

James sighed quietly in annoyance. "About André?"

"Is he a problem to you, now?"

"Jack," James said sharply. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

James rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt over his head. "Why are you letting me help him?"

Jack considered for a moment. "Well, if you don't want to…"

"Jack!" James glared at his captain, waiting for the real explanation.

Jack smiled slightly and nodded. James did not like the glint in his eyes. "Do you want to keep helping him?"

"He needs it."

"Do you want to?" Jack repeated.

James swallowed hard. "Yes," he admitted quietly.

Jack grinned and took his compass from his belt. "How much do you want to, Jamie?"

James eyed the compass warily. "What _are _you planning, Jack?"

"You want to help André, and for me to let him live…and for me not to hand him over to Davy Jones." James' eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. "So you want to save him. And to save him, I need to find the chest of Davy Jones, savvy?"

"But…"

"If this compass points to André," Jack began as he placed the compass in James' hand, "he dies." James gaped at Jack in horror. "But if you lead me to the chest of Davy Jones, he lives and is _not_ condemned to serve aboard the _Flying Dutchman _for a hundred years, savvy?" James shook his head slightly, his eyes turning back down to the compass in his hand. "You hold his fate in your hands."

James shook his head again. "Jack, no." He looked back up at Jack. "Please. Don't…I can't…"

"You'll just have to be sure it doesn't point to dear André. But no worries—it's all right if it points to me," Jack added with a smug grin. "What you want most is to rescue André and please me by finding the chest of Davy Jones." Jack nodded to the door. "To the helm."

James walked slowly to the helm as though he was going to the gallows. He gulped and could not help but lift his eyes to glance at André, who was helping swab the deck. Jack told him to open the compass, but James merely stared at the object in his shaking hands. "Jamie, love?" Jack prompted.

"Jack, you're using him…"

"As leverage," Jack finished. "Open the compass, love."

James could not believe what Jack was requiring him to do. This was low and cruel, even for Jack. _But I did kiss André…he probably just wants to…to make sure that I'm still his pet._

_Damn_.

His hand shook as he reached to open the compass. André was right. James was just a tool—just the captain's pet.

Or was he? Jack had told him that he loved him. So was he more than a pet to him?

"Jamie," Jack said quietly, placing one hand on his pistol and the other on James' leg. "Go on, love."

_I want nothing more than to find the chest of Davy Jones. I can save André by finding the chest of Davy Jones. I _must _find the chest of Davy Jones._ And James slowly opened the compass, holding his breath as he watched it spin._ The chest of Davy Jones, I want to find the chest of Davy Jones…_ James raised his eyes slightly to look at André, who was now watching him with concern in his adorable chocolate brown eyes.

James slapped himself mentally and turned his eyes back to the compass.

His heart stopped and he snapped the compass shut as quickly as possible, but there was no way Jack could have missed where it had pointed.

"Bugger," Jack said.

Eyes wide, James looked up and caught André's gaze. André's brow furrowed slightly, sensing James' panic. James suddenly moved to stand between Jack and André, meeting Jack's gaze fearfully. "Jack, don't," he said shakily, too frightened for André to figure out what else he could do.

Jack kept a hand on his pistol, but he did not draw it as he stared at James intently. "Damn," he breathed. "I was certain it would work."

"Certain—what?"

Jack sighed after a moment. "I'm not going to kill him. Yet," he added.

"You're not? You just…"

"I was using him as leverage, as I said. I thought it would work. If you prefer, I'll kill him."

James shook his head rapidly. "Jack, that was—you were—." He set his jaw and turned away, forcing himself not to say anything that he would regret.

"Keep the compass, Jamie," Jack said quietly. "Keep trying to find the chest." Jack patted James' behind as he made to leave James at the helm.

"Yes, _Captain_," James spat. Jack froze for a moment before he left.

For a while, James fought with his curiosity, but he finally reopened the compass. He wanted to see where it pointed—perhaps it had only focused on André because he had made the mistake of looking at him, or thinking about him at the wrong time.

After all, James did not _want_ André. Not like that at all. They were, or had been, close friends, and James admittedly loved him more than most. But André was not what he wanted most—he just wanted to get André back to safety.

Of course, what did James want most?

He watched the compass spin in his hand and waited almost impatiently for it to choose a direction.

And what of Jack? James was with Jack—it was probably the most solid vaguely romantic relationship he had ever been in. While not overly romantic, it was stable, and Jack had saved him from the hell his life was in Tortuga. He had given him freedom he had never experienced. And Jack loved him. Perhaps he had never said it before, but it his actions had long shown that he at least liked and desired him, which was more than anyone had ever felt for him before.

_Except André…_

James felt so foolish. He had truly never seen how deeply André felt for him before. André was risking everything to try and help him. And now…

James looked back down at the compass.

_Do I love André?_


	7. Just Like Jack

André wanted to go talk to James. James had indeed nursed him back to…well, not health, but he was improving, just as Jack had ordered. But James generally refused to talk to him, as though afraid that his captain would not improve.

André watched Jack go into his cabin, and then turned his eyes back up to James at the helm. James had opened a compass and was staring blankly at it. André took an involuntary step toward him, wincing and leaning on the railing of the ship, remembering his wound. He really would kill Jack. He was beginning to see no alternative. Even though James obviously had some feelings for André (though what these feelings were, André was not entirely sure), James would do nothing against Jack.

But it was not out of devotion to Jack that James obeyed every passing fancy of the captain. At first, that is what André had feared—that he _had _lost James, and that he was now just Jamie. However, André was firmly convinced that James now obeyed Jack out of some sense of fear or worthlessness. James was still there—he was just buried, and André had to dig him out.

James was continuing to stare at the compass, his eyes suddenly widening slightly. He closed the compass and shoved it into his pocket. André swallowed hard and wondered if he dare to try and speak to him. James looked up at him and André flushed slightly, surprised when James motioned to him. He seemed to want him to come up to the helm.

André cursed under his breath as he hobbled up the stairs, sharp pains stabbing through his wounded leg each time he put his weight on it. James rushed to meet him at the top and helped him up the last few stairs, quickly returning to the helm. "James?" André asked quietly.

André studied James for a moment. He was shirtless again, his tattoo revealed, as well as some crude cuts on his arm that appeared suspiciously like a sparrow. André had seen them before, when James had been cleaning André's wound, and André was almost certain that Jack had done that to him, marking James as his own; but he still did not ask. André noted what appeared to be a bite mark on James' neck as well, wincing slightly and silently cursing Jack for using James.

James bit his lip as he pulled out the compass. He brushed his thumb tenderly over the wood as he thought. "You said you came here to…to save me." James hesitantly raised his eyes to André, who nodded, completely entranced by James' jade eyes. James licked his lips nervously. "What if I told you there's only one way?" James' eyes flickered towards the front of the ship again as he adjusted the wheel slightly. "Would you do it?"

"I would do anything, sir."

Looking again at the compass, James said, "The chest of Davy Jones."

"The—what?"

James took a deep breath. "Find the chest of Davy Jones. It's what Jack needs."

"So he gets this 'chest' and you're free?" André said slowly.

"I'm not a prisoner, André," James said quietly.

"Then let's leave now. Take a jollyboat and go."

"I—no!" André shook his head. James sighed. "André, be realistic. We can't just—."

"Get off the ship like you told me to?" André said coldly. James looked as though he had been slapped.

"André…I…that was for your safety. You do need to—."

"So do you!" André said, taking a rather pathetic step forward due to his injured leg. "I'm not leaving without you! Perhaps you haven't noticed, _sir_, but I happen to be rather fond of you!" André exclaimed sarcastically.

James closed his eyes. "André…"

"You said you had a way of rescuing you, James?" André interrupted.

James nodded. "The chest." He held out the compass. "To save me, you must find the chest of Davy Jones. That's what you want most, isn't it?"

André glanced at the compass in confusion. "How do I find it?"

James turned his eyes down to the compass. "This compass…is unique."

"That's Jack's compass," André muttered as he recognized the instrument in James' hand. "It's broken. I remember."

James shook his head. "Not broken. It just doesn't point north."

"Dare I ask where it points?" André asked, arching an eyebrow skeptically.

James licked his lips again as he held the compass closer to André. "It points to what you want most." André opened his mouth to speak, but James continued, "And what you want most is to help me by finding the chest of Davy Jones."

André's mouth snapped shut as James wrapped his hands around the compass. He stared at it for a moment before looking back up at James. "You're not serious? I mean…this compass can't really point to what I want?"

"What you want most," James corrected quietly. "And it does."

"I—but—." His eyes narrowed slightly. "You were staring at this earlier. Where was it pointing?"

James looked determinedly ahead. "Not where I wanted it to."

André looked back down at the compass in wonder, not caring to believe that it could really point to what he wanted most. He opened it and was not too surprised when it turned directly to James without hesitation.

"What you want most is to find the chest of Davy Jones."

André looked up at the man he loved. "To save you."

"To save me. The chest of Davy Jones," James repeated quietly. "Think about it, André."

André sighed, staring down at the compass that was pointing to what he wanted most—James. He was rather bewildered that the compass apparently worked, but was still not shocked at where it had decided to point when André held it.

"The chest of Davy Jones will save James…" André muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing. "Find the chest of Davy Jones and James will be free." He glanced up at James, who was refusing to look at André as he talked to himself. "The chest of Davy Jones…" He sighed heavily. "It's not working."

There was a brief pause before, "Then I die, André."

André looked up at him in horror. James continued to avoid looking at him and almost appeared guilty. Anger flared in André's chest as he looked down at the compass again.

And his mouth dropped.

The compass had finally moved away from James and had instead spun around to point to starboard.

"James…"

James finally turned to him and looked down at the compass in André's hands. He smiled softly. "We have a heading."

James felt bad for lying to André. For that is what he had done—he had made up the part about his possible death, and even the idea that getting the chest of Davy Jones would save him. But it would save André. That was his goal—and it had worked.

He had lied to André, used him, and would likely ultimately hurt him once he realized that James had been making most of what he said up. But they still had their heading, even though James had made it happen in a less-than-true way. He would be completing his goal, even though André would believe he was completing his.

James winced as he turned the wheel to starboard. _I'm just like Jack…_


	8. Anything

Despite heading toward this "Chest of Davy Jones" that would help free James, André was not comforted. Hate flared inside him every time he saw Jack touching James, which the captain had the habit of doing all too often and intimately. And André also hated how James reacted to Jack's touch.

Jack appeared to know exactly how to touch James to get a desired reaction, and that fact was driving André mad. André was growing to hate Jack more and more each day, and he even found himself hating James for a few moments when he would lean into Jack's touch or follow Jack into his cabin.

And because it seemed to be the only way to truly gain James' attention, André confronted him below decks again when James was coming down from the captain's cabin late one night.

"André!"

André could not help but smirk slightly as James guessed who it was before André had even said a word. "Jamie."

James growled softly, but said nothing about the nickname. "What are you doing? Are you drunk again?" He tried to maneuver out of André's grasp on his arms, but André held him firmly against the wall.

"You are much better than this, James," he said quietly. "Don't you see? It hurts so much to…to see you bowing to Jack's every whim."

"He is my captain—."

"And he uses you as a whore!" André flinched at the harshness in his own voice. "James, please…you're a Commodore of the Royal Navy. Not a pirate's pet. And it hurts…I can't bear seeing you like this."

"And what would you have me do, André?"

"Don't allow him to have such control over you. You're worth so much more than that." James sighed heavily. "We're so close, James. So close to saving you."

"Yes."

André's brow furrowed at the sad tone in James' voice. "What's wrong, James?"

After a brief pause, James responded, "The Navy won't want me back."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course they will," André contradicted, despite the fact that he doubted that it was the real reason for James' sadness. "You're the best Commodore they've ever had."

"You're exaggerating." James sighed again. "I'm a pirate, André. A thief and a liar."

"No, no, you're not!" André said quickly. "Most certainly not."

"And a whore, as you said."

"James," André breathed. "Don't lose all your hope. I'm going to help you. Jack won't harm you. I won't let him."

André wondered what James was thinking as the two fell silent. For a while, they merely stood together in the dark, with André still grasping his arms and with James' back to the wall. Then André was shocked when he realized that James was trembling, and he heard a small sob that James failed to hide.

"I'm so sorry, André," James said. "I…I'm sorry."

"Shh, James," André said, moving closer and cautiously reaching to him to wipe away his tears. "James, none of this is your fault."

"I lied, André."

André froze, wondering what James was talking about. "Lied?"

"Yes."

André licked his lips. "About?"

"Jack isn't going to kill me. I'm not going to die if we don't find the chest." André shook his head in confusion. "I lied in hope that it would make the compass work for you. And it did."

André swallowed hard. "Why? I thought…"

"To save you."

André's breath caught in his throat. James really cared about him—but he had also lied to him. That was not like James at all. "And you?"

"I'm staying here. There's nothing you can do for me, André."

_Everything I've done…I'll fail. No, I can't fail, I _will_ save him…_ But André could not help but wonder how to save someone who did not want to be saved. "James…" André coughed when his voice cracked and tears filled his eyes. "Why? Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because you can't!" James snapped. "I've told you before! Get off this ship. There's no life for me back in Port Royal. At least here I have captain who cares about me."

_So I'm not worth as much as Jack._ André tried to speak, but found that he could not. He stared blankly at James' chest and the tattoo that he could barely make out in the darkness.

"André?" James said hesitantly. "Could you…say something? Please, André, try to understand. You have a wonderful future ahead, and I want to help you get back to it. And I have a new life here. It's not so bad for me, really."

"And what's so good about being a deckhand who serves a drunk pirate?" André asked quietly.

"He…" James took a deep breath. "I…damn." James put a hand to his head. "I don't know what to do, André. I didn't…I didn't know."

"Know what?"

"André…Jack, he…he truly does care about me." André scoffed disbelievingly. "He loves me, André!" James snapped.

"No, he doesn't," André said quickly. "He doesn't. Is that why you think you should stay?"

"He told me, André."

"To stay?"

"That he loves me!"

André's heart pounded and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Jack was lying, of course. But James… "No wonder you don't want me around. It doesn't matter how horrible he is to you or to me. You…" André gulped. "You love him."

The silence after this statement was unbearable. André did not even breathe as he waited for James to respond. He hoped that James would quickly deny it…but James remained silent.

"You do," André breathed in disbelief. "He uses you and you _love _him?"

James turned his head away. "He doesn't use me. Not really. Recently, yes, but only because he feels that his relationship with me is threatened."

"By me rescuing you?"

There was a brief silence. "By me loving you," James admitted quietly.

André's eyes widened and his heart raced. He did not dare believe what he had just heard for fear of him hearing incorrectly. James tried to move past André. "I'm sorry, André."

"For what, sir?" André asked, catching James by the arm.

"I…"

André would later be unable to recall who moved toward the other first, but André was too preoccupied with the mouth devouring his to care. James backed him up to the wall, his hands holding André's face as André entangled a hand in James' hair, pulling him closer.

And then André realized: James loved him.

Perhaps James, for some inexplicable reason, loved Jack, but he did love André. James Norrington loved André Gillette.

André forced himself not to take James' comment as a proclamation of undying love, but whatever love James had for him… _Wow_.

Logical thought soon left André as the kiss continued to deepen and James' body pressed against his. André moaned wantonly into James' mouth as James pushed his thigh between André's legs. But his eyes suddenly snapped open and he put his hands on James' chest, pushing him away enough to break the kiss.

James panted, his eyes flickering in the dark. "André?"

"Sir…James…I need you to know. I love you. I always have, and I always will. I just…I wanted to be sure that you…"

"I know, André."

"Then please let me help you, James. Let me free you."

"I…I don't…"

"I would do anything for you, James_._"

"André…"

"Shh. Listen to me. _Anything_. If…if, for any reason, you don't want to be rescued, I will stay here. With you. Or anywhere else, or be—anything."

"André…I appreciate everything you have done for me, but I am not worth your devotion."

"Don't say that!" André exclaimed, pulling James closer to him. "It is an honor to serve with you, a privilege to be your friend, and, God, I can't express my love for you, or what your love for me…what it…how it feels." André was relatively certain that James was blushing, and he decided to continue stoking James' damaged ego. "I have never met a more courageous man, nor a more handsome one," he said shyly, gently trailing his fingers over James' bare chest.

"I still don't believe that I'm worth—."

"You are," André interrupted, gently pressing his lips to James' again. "When we find the chest, what will happen?" André said when they parted.

"Jack will trade the contents for his…for all our…freedom. When we stop in a port, you can go—."

"And you?"

"I…I don't know."

"Come with me."

James swallowed hard. "I…I think I might."

"You can get your life back. And I will always be there for you, with you…"

"But André…I love him. I love Jack, too." James took a step away from André. "I-I can't just leave him. I can't do that."

André looked down at his feet. It was as he feared. James _did _love Jack. He loved André, too, which was more wonderful than anything André could ask for in the whole world. But he did not want to share James with Jack.

James moved closer again, lifting André's chin and kissing him again. "But I love you, André," he breathed as he nibbled at André's ear.

"I love you too, James."

André felt James smile against his neck, apparently unused to having anyone openly tell him that. André wrapped his arms around James, holding his body closer to him. He was acutely aware of the growing tension in his groin, and he allowed his mind to drift into a fantasy that included James taking care of said tension.

Then André realized that the hardness he felt against his leg was not in his imagination. James was kissing him more fiercely now, his body pinning André's to the wall. André moaned as a hand moved down to cup the bulge in his breeches. "James," he gasped into the man's mouth.

"We shouldn't…" James muttered, even as his hands began unlacing André's breeches. André blinked rapidly, trying to keep hold of some of his senses.

"But?"

"But…"


	9. Love and Hate

"Good morning, André."

André flushed deeply as he saw James smiling shyly at him. He nodded in return, finding his mouth too dry to speak. James' cheeks darkened slightly as he looked away.

André hurriedly got to work as he saw Captain Sparrow emerge from his cabin. "Jamie, I want to see you in my cabin!"

André swallowed hard as he glanced behind him to see James obediently heading to the captain's cabin. André closed his eyes and said a brief prayer as fear gnawed at him. Jack had known before when they had only kissed—God knows who saw or heard them the night before.

André wished that he had been in enough control of his feelings to keep those events from happening. It had been passionate and oh-so-good, yes, but it had also been hurried and now he was deathly afraid that Jack knew about it. If Jack _did_ know, James would likely be punished for it, and André…André might be killed.

André frequently looked towards the door to Jack's cabin, wondering what was happening inside. He did not really want to think about it—sadly, the best-case scenario was Jack having his way with James. André bit his lip and tried to focus on work, but it that strategy failed miserably.

The more time past, the more certain André was that Jack knew of what had happened the night before. He dreaded his next encounter with the man. André nearly jumped out of his skin as someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa, easy! Are you all right?"

André took a deep breath to calm his heart as he looked at Mr. Gibbs. "I'm fine, sir. Just startled. I was thinking," he added at the disbelieving look the man gave him.

"About?"

André shrugged. "My mind was just wandering. Not sure where to. Did you want something?"

Mr. Gibbs continued to eye him curiously. "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind taking the helm for awhile."

"No problem!"

As André went up the stairs to the helm, he heard what was unmistakably a wanton moan followed by "God, Jack!"

André grit his teeth in anger. At least Jack probably did not know what had happened between James and André the night before. But that did not comfort André at all.

He hated Jack. Jack, with that bloody charming smile of his and those mischievous eyes. Jack, with that stupid ego of his that made him believe that _Captain _Jack Sparrow was the greatest man on earth. Jack, with that drunken sway and rambling speech that tricked many into believing he was less intelligent than he is. Jack, who held part of James' heart away from André…

Jack, who had saved James from hell. Jack, who cared for James and was there for him when no one else was. Jack, who _was _captain of a ship. Jack, who was much more cunning than most believe. Jack, with his body seemed only second to James' in perfection…

André blinked and looked up at the main mast, where the pirate flag would be raised during an attack. Jack, who had shown James a freedom he had never known…

André closed his eyes. No wonder James loved Jack. Jack had helped James, had been there for him, and had loved him in his darkest hour. And where was André? Wandering aimlessly around Port Royal and believing that James was dead. Of course, that is what he had been told, but he still should have known better…

But André had gone to Tortuga and joined a pirate crew to help James. That had to count for something.

André managed to get lost in thought for so long that he did not even notice James' presence until he was offering him the compass again. James was slightly flushed and his lips were dark red, likely swollen from kissing Jack. André closed his eyes and cursed Jack. He was surprised to feel a gentle kiss against his lips. He opened his eyes just as James pulled back.

"He doesn't know," James breathed as he wrapped André's hands around the compass.

"I gathered that," André said, flushing in anger as he turned away.

James shifted his weight uncomfortably. "André, I…"

"Why do you keep doing that?" André asked, his hand forming into a fist. "Don't you understand that you are better?"

"And don't you understand that I love him?" James replied a little more sharply than he likely intended.

A tear escaped the side of André's eye. "Yes. I do understand." André bit his lip. "But that doesn't make it hurt any less."

O O O

James watched André silently, trying to decide whether or not to wipe that tear off of his face. André refused to look at him, likely knowing exactly what had just happened between James and Jack. And James was now thoroughly ashamed. He felt even worse than when he had first considered that he was nothing but Jack's pet.

Now he was in over his head—completely in love with two men. And he could not have both. Not forever.

While with Jack, he could not help but think of André and feel guilty, both about being with Jack and about thinking about André while with Jack. With André, he felt ashamed of his relationship with Jack, and guilty for loving both of them.

And here was André, in more pain than he had probably had been in before their first and thus far only time together, and yet he certainly had no idea of the torment James' heart was in. The pain James caused André to feel was only a small bit of the agony that was ripping his heart to shreds.

André was not safe aboard the _Black Pearl_, so he would have to leave. But James was not certain that he could go with him—he was not sure that he could leave Jack. But not leaving Jack would mean abandoning André. But just being with André while aboard Jack's ship was endangering André, and being with Jack at all was hurting André, and the fact that both men loved and wanted him but hated the other was driving James mad.

No matter what he did, he would be hurting at least one of them. Currently it was André—but what if James and André left? Then it would be Jack. And if James stayed with Jack, André would just continue feeling the pain. And James would be suffering either way because of the guilt that was already consuming him even though he had not made any sort of decision yet.

What was the bloody point of love, anyway? It would have all been better if James had just been nothing more than Jack's whore. Then he could have at least left. And at least he would not be in the situation he was in right now. At least he would not be condemned to the ridiculous amount of pain that seemed to make up his life.

"Damn it, André, do you think you're the only one in pain here?" James said finally. "Do you have any idea how fucking difficult this is for me?" André gaped at him in shock. "No matter what I do, even when I admit I love you, you're still hurt! I can't help my feelings for Jack anymore than those for you, and although you seem to believe otherwise, there is no happily-ever-after solution to all this!" James turned his back on André, crossing his arms about his bare chest. "I can't choose one without hurting the other, and my guilt is bad enough at it is." Unable to say more, James fell silent, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You love him?"

James probably should have been mortified to hear Jack's voice at that moment, but he currently did not care. "Unfortunately, yes. And, also unfortunately, I happen to love you, too, Jack." James spun around to face the two. Apparently Jack had just made his way up the steps to the helm. "But that's it. It's over between you and me, Sparrow." Jack's surprised and angered expression was the perfect counterpoint to André's triumphant smile. "And nothing more is going to happen between us, Gillette."

After a brief silence, both of the other men started talking.

"James, what—what are you talking about?" André said, his eyes filling with tears as his smile faded. "Please…"

"Jamie, love, let's go talk in my cabin," Jack said, offering out his hand.

"No!" James snapped, backing away from the two. "Just—no! I hate the pair of you!"

Green eyes flashing, James quickly strode away from the helm, leaving the two men frozen in stunned silence.


	10. Cold

André and Jack exchanged many glares and concerned looks throughout the day, both wanting to talk to James, but being afraid of his reaction. Jack was obviously both confused and hurt—he had not even realized before that James loved André. André was hurt and afraid—he did not dare talk to James, yet he wanted to so much. He wanted to be there for him, but feared getting forced away.

James spent the day at the bow of the _Pearl, _stubbornly refusing to do any work or even move. No one approached him until nightfall, when Jack hesitantly walked up beside him. "It's chilly tonight."

"Is it?" James replied apathetically.

Jack saw that James' bare skin was covered in goose bumps—he was cold, but did not want to admit it. "You should get to bed. You need rest." James said nothing. Jack sighed and said, "You can sleep in my bed, if you'd be more comfortable. I could take the hammock." James continued to remain silent. Jack gazed at James sadly, wondering if he still felt as he had during his earlier outburst. "Jamie, love, please…" Jack said, gently putting a hand on James' arm.

"Get your hands off me," James growled. "And my name is _not_ Jamie, and I am not your 'love.'"

Jack kept his hand on James' arm and dared to slide it down to James' hand. "Jamie, talk to me. What's wrong? Is there anything dear old Jack can do?"

"You can keep your hands to yourself and stop calling me Jamie," James said as he grit his teeth.

Jack moved closer to James, holding one hand in his while his other hand went to James' waist. "James, please," he said quietly, using his best pout.

But James, instead of reacting as Jack expected, snarled at him and forcefully shoved him away, nearly causing Jack to lose his balance and tumble over the railing of the ship. "I said keep your hands off of me."

Jack stared at him with wide eyes. His touch always got James to at least talk to him. "Jamie…"

"I told you to stop calling me that," James interrupted sharply.

"You shouldn't talk to your captain in that tone, Jamie."

James arched an eyebrow at him, quickly surveying him. "You are not my captain."

Jack's mouth dropped open as James turned back to the sea. It took a few moments for Jack to regain his composure. "Then you don't belong on this ship."

"I know."

Jack's breath quickened in anger at James' attitude and this betrayal. "Then how do you propose we rectify the situation, _Mr. Norrington_?"

"Kill me?"

The silence that followed was nearly unbearable. Jack was finally the one to break it, his voice weak. "No. I can't…I wouldn't." James scoffed, almost in annoyance. "You…you don't really think I could do that, Jamie…do you?"

"My name is not Jamie."

And Jack finally decided to give up for the night. "I love you, Jamie." He quickly pressed his lips to James' cheek before leaving.

O O O

André came above deck. It was late at night, and he should have been asleep, but he found himself incapable of rest that night. He was not very surprised to see a solitary man standing at the front of the ship. Sighing sadly, André wondered whether or not he should go talk to him. Surely James was cold—he was not even wearing a shirt.

André turned back and went below deck, grabbing a blanket before returning. James was standing in the exact same location and position. André hesitantly approached him, staring intently at the blanket in his arms. James had to hear his approach, but he did not move a muscle.

Standing beside James, André continued staring down at the blanket. James did not acknowledge his presence. "James," André began, wanting to pour out his heart and beg for…anything. But instead he held out the blanket. "I brought you this." Silence. "I thought you might be cold."

"No, I'm not." But just then James shuddered, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and searching for warmth. André cautiously reached around and put the blanket on him.

"You should get some rest."

"I'm fine."

André swallowed hard and looked at his feet. "I'm sorry, James. I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted to help you. To-to get your life back." André shifted his weight nervously when James said nothing. "What I told you before is true, sir. I would do anything for you." James still did not respond. "Please, James. Give me an order. Tell me what you want. Do you want me to leave you alone? You know what, I will. I really will. Do you want me to go hang myself? I'll do that, too."

James finally moved slightly, his stance a little less stiff, but he still said nothing.

"Do you want me dead, James?" André asked timidly.

"No," James answered simply.

André took a deep breath. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"Yes."

André's mouth snapped shut and he nodded. "All right. Goodnight, James." He waited around a moment to see if James said anything else before walking away.

"André."

André gasped and turned back quickly. James was still staring out at the sea. "Yes, sir?"

"Thank you."

O O O

James shivered and pulled the blanket André had brought him closer about his shoulders. It was a very cold night. He looked down into the dark waters below, sighing quietly. He hated himself for how he was treating the two men he loved, but he could see no other course. He could not allow himself to be with either, not anymore. He could not remain aboard the _Black Pearl_ and he should not return to his life in Port Royal. He needed to go somewhere, anywhere, where Jack and André could not follow.

It would be so hard to leave them, but he had to. Yet, if he left, he would be hurting both.

James growled in frustration as he stared out into the darkness. No matter what he did, he would be hurting someone, and himself. After being rejected by Miss Swann, James had never believed that he would actually have two people in love with him, nor that he would love them both back. Who knew that this could hurt more than rejection?

James winced, realizing that he had just rejected both Jack and André even though he loved them. But that was the first step the breaking away, surely. After a time, they would forget or at least move on. As long as he was around, they had no chance of moving on.

He again looked down toward the icy water, wondering how quickly the cold could make him lose consciousness. James glanced behind him at the nearly deserted deck. The only crewmembers were near the helm, and one appeared to be sleeping.

James turned to look back into the dark ocean. What if he simply vanished? Jack and André would have no way of knowing what happened to him. Perhaps they would actually get along without James around. Who knows—perhaps the two could even end up as a couple.

James shrugged off the blanket, letting it fall to his feet. He glanced behind him again as he gripped the railing of the ship. The two crewmembers were not looking at him. He could disappear over the edge and no one would know. James tightened his grip on the wood, preparing to hoist himself over and into the water.

"Do you want me dead, James?"

James whirled around, but saw no one. He shook his head, realizing he had just been imagining hearing André's voice.

"Is there anything dear old Jack can do?" James did not turn around this time, knowing that Jack's voice was just in his mind. "I love you, Jamie."

"I love you too, James."

"Shut up," James said quietly, closing his eyes and trying to stop thinking about things Jack and André had said to him in the past. His eyes still closed, James sat on the railing. He cursed as he hesitated. All three of them would be miserable as long as they were all on this ship. This was the quickest way to help. If he did not do this, André or Jack would end up killing the other. He saw it in André's eyes—he hated Jack and wanted him dead. Jack had nearly killed André before, and he hated how André held part of James' heart. And James could not let either one die.

Anyway, once he was overboard he would be with his true love forever—the sea.

He smiled as he tensed, prepared to dive into the icy depths.


	11. Wandering

Suddenly a pair of strong arms was about his chest, pulling him from his perilous balance on the railing. James pulled against whoever it was, trying to finish what he had started, but the other man's will was stronger. "Let me go!"

"I'm not about to let you kill yourself!"

James recognized the voice as Jack's as he was pulled back away from the railing. He swore he felt another pair of hands pulling at him as well, though the next thing he was sure about was being on Jack's bed. He curled up and started crying, completely uncaring of how he looked or seemed to whoever was watching.

"So close…"

"I know," a voice that sounded choked up from crying said, stroking a hand through his hair.

"I just want to die," James said, burying his face in the pillow that smelled like his captain. "Just let me go."

"Never, James." A hand was around his and an arm was about his waist. He felt a body pressed close to his, holding him close and warming his cold body as he cried himself to sleep.

James' eyes fluttered open. He blinked, trying to remember where he was. Jack's cabin—he was never here in the morning. Why was he here? He had broken off his relationship with Jack, and with André for that matter, and he last remembered being at the bow of the ship. His eyes hurt, like he had been crying.

He unconsciously curled up closer to the warm body he felt nearby. He bit his lip as he abruptly remembered being on the railing, prepared to die. He felt so foolish now. Death was not the answer, surely. He had been pulled away—by Jack? James finally focused on the body he was curling up to, his arm somehow around the man's waist. But it was not Jack.

James sat up in surprise as he recognized André's red hair. In doing so, James awoke the man who had his arm around _his _waist, and Jack opened his eyes and sat up. Before James could form a coherent sentence, Jack had grabbed James and was holding him tightly to his chest. "Never do that again, Jamie. Never think of it."

"Please." James saw André sitting up beside them and put a hand on James' shoulder. "I don't know what I'd do if…if you…"

"But…"

"Shh." Jack pressed his lips to James' forehead. "Sleep, Jamie. You need rest."

"I'm fine," James lied, trying to move from the bed, but he found himself surrounded.

"No, James. You should sleep." André leaned forward and gently touched his lips to James'. He pulled back quickly, blushing and eyeing Jack nervously, but Jack made no hostile move towards him.

James sighed and lay back down, feeling rather awkward with Jack and André watching him. "Could you leave me alone?" Jack appeared worried and André looked a little hurt, so James quickly added, "I just don't think I can rest with you two hanging over me like that." Jack looked at André with an arched eyebrow, and André growled softly as he climbed off the bed and left the room. "Jack?"

"Sorry, mate. I'm not leaving you alone, not after that." He ran his hand slowly through James' hair. "Go to sleep, love."

O O O

Jack watched James sleep, smiling softly, although the smile did not quite reach his eyes. Jack had been unaware of James' deep feelings for André before his outburst by the helm, and he had been thoroughly unprepared for him telling Jack that he loved, yet hated, him. James had told him before that he loved him, and Jack had not realized until recently that Jack never returned the sentiment. André had been much more open and caring—it was no wonder James had fallen in love with André.

Even after hearing that James was dead, André had followed the rumors of James' survival to Tortuga. Upon discovering that James was part of Jack's crew, he actually joined the pirate crew, knowing the great risk to his honor and life. André had been trying to protect James and bring him back to his former life in Port Royal. Jack chuckled quietly—damn, that man was loyal!

Jack brushed his fingers along James' arm before gently covering him up with a blanket. To think that James had nearly jumped off the ship the night before, intent on dying in the icy and unforgiving waters. Granted, Jack loved the sea and planned on dying while at sea. Jack closed his eyes and put a hand to his head. What could have prompted James to such extreme action?

He could answer that question very quickly, given James' brief tirade. James did not want to hurt either of them, and believed that he was hurt both of them because of his love for the other. And he was correct. It did hurt for Jack to know that James' heart was not completely his. Jack also suspected that André was very unhappy with Jack's intimate relationship with James. And James was in constant pain because of his guilt for loving both of them.

But surely all would be worse off if James died.

Jack lay down beside James and wrapped his arms about him, pulling him close and cherishing the warmth and life that had almost been lost. He closed his eyes, desiring to fall asleep and enter dreams where he and Jamie were not in pain.

But instead he found his mind plagued with thoughts about the future. James had broken off his relationships with the two of them. It had been a spur of the moment action, but what if he still held to it? And what would happen? What did he plan on doing? Where would he go? Would he choose to leave with André and return to his position in Port Royal? There was certainly ample reason for him to do that. Or would he stay with Jack? Jack hoped that there was good reason for James to choose that course as well. Or would he do something different, something to keep him away from both of them?

Jack cursed silently as a worried knot in his stomach began eating at him and filling him with fear as he thought of the worst possibilities. He was becoming ridiculous—even considering James killing Jack and André—but he still could not keep his mind from wandering. He tightened his grip around James. He did not want to let his Jamie go.

O O O

André could not concentrate on anything as he tried to get Jack's compass to work again. He wanted to find that chest that James had kept talking about before and get the _Black Pearl_ there as quickly as possible. Then he could take James back to Port Royal. But for now, his mind was wandering.

But what if James did not want to return to Port Royal? What if he chose to stay here—chose Jack? André frowned. The best life for James would be in Port Royal, he knew it, but would he be happier there? What if he was happier here? Then of course André would leave him here. After all, James could not have the freedom he enjoyed at sea while in Port Royal, especially not if he got his position in the Royal Navy back.

In fact, James and André would likely not be able to be together. If James returned to 'proper' society, he would not want to break any of the rules. He would want to be the perfect gentleman, as he was before—and being in a relationship with André would then be impossible…

But André had not come to rescue James just because he wanted a relationship with him. He came because he loved him and wanted to rescue him. But now he was not so certain that he would be rescuing him if he took him back to Port Royal.

André sighed heavily and leaned on the railing. This was going to take him a while to sort out.


	12. Rescuing Jamie

"There! It must be there!" André grinned like a young boy as he pointed at the island.

"Finally!" Jack exclaimed. "All right, André, with me."

"Jack?" Jack winced as he turned to look at James. "What about me?"

"It could be dangerous, love. The Kraken…"

"Hasn't attacked yet. I want to help you, Jack."

Jack sighed before nodding, and the three were joined by Pintel and Ragetti as they rowed out to the island. Jack and André kept getting caught staring at James, something they found they did a little too often. They were both intensely curious as to what was going on in James' head—and James refused to tell them. Both had no idea who James was planning on going with after finding the chest and if he would chose to go with either of them at all.

"Guard the boat, mind the tide…don't touch my dirt," Jack told Pintel and Ragetti. André did not bother asking about the jar of dirt Jack carried with him.

André followed where the compass was pointing him, although now it was beginning to falter. He was no longer certain of exactly what he wanted, and it was difficult to concentrate on anything else with James right there…

André stopped when it turned to point at James. He sighed and shook the compass before turning around and realizing that James was standing to the left of where the arrow was pointing. André took a few steps forward, and the compass turned to point behind him again. He turned back around and looked at the ground.

"I think…I think it's here."

Jack pushed a shovel into his hands. "Then dig!"

"Jack," James said warningly, taking his own shovel and starting to dig. André smiled appreciatively.

Jack sat back, allowing the two to dig and watching James lifting that sand out of the way—and the view of James' backside was not bad either—and waited.

A few minutes later, he heard a dull thud._ We've got it_.

Only moments after they had unearthed the chest, Pintel and Ragetti came running up behind them, flailing their arms and yelling incoherently. But although the two pirates were having difficulty conveying what was causing their panic, Jack got the general gist.

The _Flying Dutchman_ had arrived.

Jack grabbed the chest and they all took off running. Ideally Jack would have brought the chest and it's contents back onto the _Black Pearl_ before the _Dutchman_ caught up with them, but at the moment that was not really an option.

"Oh my God," André said under his breath as they ran.

Jack looked back to see the members of Davy Jones' crew coming out of the water and onto the beach, their bodies covered in seaweed and encrusted with reefs.

"That's just…"

"Worse than the skeletal pirates?" James finished. André said nothing, his eyes full of fear.

Jack glanced back again and saw that the creatures were chasing them. "Bugger!" Jack swore, annoyed that they had been seen. "Run!"

"Where're we goin'?" Pintel asked, gasping for breath as they sped up.

"Away from here," Jack responded as they entered the jungle on the island. "Hopefully we can lose them."

"You never told me about monsters also coming after the chest," André hissed at James.

"They're not exactly after the chest…well, they weren't…" James started to explain, but Jack silenced him with a look.

"It doesn't matter much now. What matters is us getting out of here alive."

An axe suddenly collided with a nearby tree, and the group noticed, with horror, that the creatures were closing in on them. "Come on! Run!" James shouted.

Jack carefully avoided the tree roots and vines that seemed intent on tripping him up, suddenly realizing that André was no longer with them. Jack paused and turned around, his mouth dropping open as he realized that André was on the ground, a knife of some sort lodged in his shoulder. His shirt was covered in blood and he was struggling to stand.

"Come on, you can make it, André!" Jack called back. He was about to start running again, leaving the wounded André behind, when James suddenly started heading back toward André.

"Jamie!" Jack exclaimed. "No! It's too dangerous—get back here! That's an order!" But James ran to André's side, not daring to remove the blade in his friend's back as he helped him to his feet. "Jamie!" Jack shouted, fear overcoming him as the creatures caught up to the two of them.

James drew his sword and fought off the nearest creature before grabbing André by the hand and pulling him along behind him as he ran back toward Jack. André stumbled again, and James again fell back to help the wounded man up.

"Leave me!" André said through clenched teeth. "Please, James, go!"

But James was not listening. _Damn it!_ "Jamie, come on!"

"I'm not leaving you," Jack heard James tell André.

James turned to face the creatures again, their numbers far too great for him to handle. Jack looked down at the chest in his hands and then back up to where James was miraculously holding off nearly a dozen of Davy Jones' crew single-handedly. But Jack knew that could not last for long.

"You two, get this back to the _Pearl_. Your lives depend on it," Jack said, shoving the chest into Pintel and Ragetti's hands. "Run!" Jack drew his cutlass as he ran to join James in his battle. As he came up beside him, Jack said, "James, are you mad?"

"I think you influenced me," James said with a charming grin.

"No, no," Jack said as he deflected a blade from an oncoming creature. "If I had, you would not be here right now."

"Then I think _I_ influenced _you._"

"Don't sound too smug," Jack growled. "You're going to get us both killed."

"Help André up and get out of here. I can hold them off."

Jack froze and gaped at James. James grunted in pain as a member of Davy Jones' crew hit his leg with a jagged weapon. Ignoring the fresh wound, James continued fighting. "I can't hold them off forever, Jack—take André and _go_."

"You two stop being heroic and leave me behind!" André said in response.

"I'm not leaving without you, Jamie. You take André and run—that's an order."

"No, Captain. Help André, and I'll follow. I'll be right behind you."

Without considering that James could be lying, Jack ran to André and offered him support so he could move. The two ran away from the fight behind them, and it was not until they were a good distance away that Jack realized that the sounds of the fight were now distant.

Jack and André turned around to see James right were they had left him, sword flashing furiously as he held the monsters back. The two stood, arms around each other for support, as they watched James fighting an impossible battle to give them time to escape. Jack both wanted to keep running away, not wanting to waste the time James was risking his life to give them. But he could not leave Jamie behind.

"Get out of there, Jamie," Jack breathed.

André could say nothing as his chocolate-brown eyes widened in terror.

Jack took an instinctive step forward as he saw the end of a blade protruding from James' back. "James!" André shouted before Jack could get his hand over his mouth so he did not give away their position.

James killed the creature that had stabbed him, stumbling backwards briefly as he clutched at his wound. But he leapt right back into action as though he had not just received a wound that could kill him. Jack felt something wet on his hand, and he realized he was still covering André's mouth, and that the wetness he felt was from tears that were pouring from André's eyes.

Jack and André gasped when James cried out in pain as an axe cut down into his shoulder and a heavy chain impacted his leg. He fell to his knees, desperately trying to keep his balance.

James suddenly looked back behind him, and his eyes found Jack and André. André let out a strangled sob. The moment felt like an eternity as the three stared at each other unblinkingly. And then James did the unthinkable—he smiled that bloody perfect smile of his. Both still frozen in dread, Jack and André continued watching him as he turned back towards his enemy and got to his feet.

"I can't believe it…" André muttered as he watched James forcing himself to keep fighting.

Jack swallowed hard. "We need to run. We can escape."

"We can't leave him," André said through his tears.

"Then he'll be doing this for nothing," Jack said quietly. "We have to get away while we can."

Jack glanced back as they went deeper into the forest, just in time to see one of those damn creatures running James through the heart. And he felt a stabbing pain in his own heart as he saw James fall slowly to the ground. Jack blinked away tears and bit his lip to keep from crying out as he continued helping André along, trying not to think of James' gorgeous jade eyes without the spark of life.

Back aboard the _Black Pearl_, Jack did not answer Mr. Gibbs when he asked about James. André was still proclaiming, even as his own wound was cleaned, that James could be alive and was only wounded, and that they needed to go back and save him. But Jack had seen the final blow—James could not survive it. However, leaving James' body in on the island seemed so wrong. Jack bit back his tears; he could do nothing. James was gone.

"Davy Jones won't attack the ship if he realizes that his chest is aboard," Jack considered. "But we can't. We were all nearly killed on that island—."

"We got away because of him! He saved us!" André exclaimed. "We have to go back! We have to rescue him!" André's eyes caught Jack's, and his expression darkened as he realized what Jack already knew. "No…" André breathed, shaking his head. "He can't…we can still help him…"

_Still intent on rescuing Jamie…_

Blinking away his own tears, Captain Jack wrapped his arms around André, holding him close as André cried into his chest.


End file.
